


History Sucks

by VoidSuma



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Angst, Backstory, How Do I Tag, Hurt No Comfort, My First Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:00:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27245383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidSuma/pseuds/VoidSuma
Summary: Xisuma's species is unknown amongst the hermits for a good reason.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 71





	History Sucks

Xisuma wasn't always the person he is today. He wasn't always an independent leader nor a strong and dependable friend. There was even a point where he didn't even know how to use admin magic. 

He remembers it well. Back when Voidwalkers were hunted for their rarity, sold or experimented on. He and his brother sticking close but when they were found the chaos of the pursuit separated them. It gets a bit fuzzy but he remembers explosions, the scars littered from wars fought centuries ago stinging. 

At the time he was sent flying into the endstone cliffs, his helmet cracked and shattered, green armor battered and blood flowing from his head and a few other injuries. He vision was hazy on the edges and as soon as someone came into view he could've sworn his life would be over, he'd be taken away from his home.

He was. However, not in the way he thought. The Overworld sucked. It wasn't his savior's fault though. Assuming he was a player but almost every day the voidwalker would suffocate and respawn on the bed. Frightened galatic would leave his lips but they couldn't understand him.

Around the fifth day of pleading a doe eyed man was presented as well as his worried caretaker. They conversed. Words rushed and pleading before he poofed away again. The next day, a repaired helmet was returned to him an he could finally breath. Tears flowed down his face as his lungs no longer burned. He sat in the corner of his bed, knees pulled to his chest. He stayed there for about another five days.

As he calmed, he could finally understand what was going on. His mind calming from the panic where he could at least speak something other than galatic. When the two appeared again, he merely shook his head. He mumbled to them in a raspy voice his name, Xisuma, and then thanked them for their help.

He wasn't expecting them to invite him to stay. His eyes were wide as he looked at them like they were crazy. He wasn't a player.. why would they want him to stay? Voidwalkers are dangerous- oh. They didn't realize it yet. He smiled weakly. This place was safe, he wouldn't be hunted. Purple eyes met brown as he agreed.

The man, his savior, began to introduce him as the newest hermit while he healed, limping slightly and remaining mostly quiet. Some of them knew what he was. He could tell. They left, he felt a bit guilty but it was out of his control. Along with introductions the man started to teach him admin magic. As it turns out, he learned it with easy when he surely thought it would fail. Aren't only certain players able to learn this magic?

He didn't like remembering the part that came next. Admin screens surrounding him, body unstable as he teleported in a small radius nervously. The world was dying. His savior going with it. He gathered everyone he could but he couldn't save him. He created the new world. He kept as many people safe as he could. Still he felt tears flow down his face. That started his mission. World hopping and rescuing misfits like himself. If anyone asked about his ablities he'd just excuse himself with claim of admin magic.

He found himself in the center of the mushroom covered shopping, all the hermits eyes on him. Some greed, some curiosity. Where was his helmet? Why couldn't he breathe? He's a Voidwalker. Not a player. Why would he deserve to be admin? Their eyes were overwhelming, mutters of how wild and dangerous he was. He couldn't breathe. The air weighed heavy in his lungs. His purple freckles glowing bright on his scarred face, tears bubbling past his eyes as he collapsed.

Xisuma woke up with a start. His body shook and despite being able to breathe in his little chunk, he grabbed his helmet, shoving it over messy brown locks. It felt like the start, shaking as he pulled himself to the corner of the yellow bed. Finally, he hugged his knees and sobbed. No one could know what he was.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi lmao- sorry this is my first work on a3o and I've not dabbled too much in skilled writing. Xisuma is my favorite hermit and I love his character so you can expect more of that out of me. I would love feed back too pls


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